![]() ![]() However, he is fully away that it cannot be the case as the birches have been permanently bent. When the poet sees birches bending to left and right in the backdrop of “straighter and darker ” trees, he likes to believe it is the work of some country boy who must’ve indulged in swinging them. The poem opens with the sight of curiously bent birches trees. īut swinging doesn’t bend them down to stay I like to think some boy’s been swinging them. When I see birches bend to left and rightĪcross the lines of straighter darker trees, Birches | Summary and Analysis Birches Analysis, Lines 1-5 Got No Time? Check out this Quick Revision by Litbug. The poet wishes to be able to revisit the childhood experience of swinging the birches in order to get a momentary respite from the adult world. Birches are given a human treatment in this poem and the manner in which they weather the climatic conditions is symbolic of the various challenges which the adult life is fraught with. The swinging of birches is used as a distraction, a passtime to busy oneself in order to escape the realities and hardships of the adult world. The poem describes the simple act of swinging the birch trees, a common sport among children in rural New England where Frost spent his childhood. Written in blank verse and composed in a charmingly conversational tone, the poem revolves around the themes of the nature of Truth, the relation between fact and fiction, revisiting one’s childhood and the balance between life and art which must be maintained for a meaningful life. ![]() But the poet also gives a way to think of our desires to be free of the constraints of the world, when our faces ‘burn and tickle with the cobwebs’ and ‘one eye is weeping from a twig’s having lashed across it.’ Yet, he reminds us: ‘Earth’s the right place for love.’ We launch out in this wild world that is the right place for love.Birches is a wisdom-laden poem by Robert Frost which was a part of a collection titled Mountain Interval (1916). The description of the boy can take us back to the sense of adventure and freedom of swinging and climbing as children, and even our adventures as adults. The full poem can transport us into the woods, the natural world. One could do worse than be a swinger of birches.Įach of us may be touched differently by this poem. That would be good both going and coming back. Toward heaven, till the tree could bear no more,īut dipped its top and set me down again. I don’t know where it’s likely to go better.Īnd climb black branches up a snow-white trunk Where your face burns and tickles with the cobwebsįrom a twig’s having lashed across it open.Īnd half grant what I wish and snatch me away So was I once myself a swinger of birches.Īnd life is too much like a pathless wood Kicking his way down through the air to the ground. Then he flung outward, feet first, with a swish, With the same pains you use to fill a cup To learn about not launching out too soonĬlear to the ground. ![]() I like to think some boy’s been swinging them.Īnd then after Frost digresses about how ice storms bend the trees downwards, he continues:Īnd not one but hung limp, not one was leftįor him to conquer. The complete poem can be found at or in The Poetry of Robert Frost (1969). Robert Frost does this for me in his poem ‘Birches’. ![]()
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